


Addicted

by Coldsaturn



Category: Bellarke - Fandom, The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, donewithyourshit!Clarke, dork!Bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:02:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1833790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coldsaturn/pseuds/Coldsaturn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In retrospect, things didn’t go exactly how Bellamy had expected. ‘Exactly’ being the greatest understatement of the century. He just wanted to keep an eye on the camp, make sure that no children got killed, recover the lost stocks after the tent’s fire, and basically live in peace for a single day. Was he asking too much?</p><p>SongPrompt: Addicted by Saving Abel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Addicted

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous prompt: Bellarke + Addicted by Saving Abel 
> 
> Ok, just so you know I really wanted to make it smut just like the song suggested (and I laughed so much because I’ve been listening to it for weeks thinking about bellarke), but then shit happened and it turned out fluff. Don’t hate me.

In retrospect, things didn’t go exactly how Bellamy had expected. ‘Exactly’ being the greatest understatement of the century. He just wanted to keep an eye on the camp, make sure that no children got killed, recover the lost stocks after the tent’s fire, and basically live in peace for a single day. Was he asking too much?

Instead, the delinquents kept on bruising their knees against everything that brushed them and then running into the dropship convinced they’d die of septicemia, which consequently drained Clarke of all the energy she had, thus depriving him of his second in command.

He had been working with Clarke long enough to be able to read her body language, and he was able to recognize at first sight when she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown: her eyes would turn gray, her cheeks hardening the natural roundness of her face, and her lips pulled into a tight line as if she were biting them from the inside. Not that he was staring, but after the first time he had tried to talk to her and had received the cold shoulder, he had immediately decided to act in order to lose as little time as possible in useless drama. He knew when it was better to avoid her, and when he could channel her frustration at what he needed. Really, theirs was a partnership that worked.

A month earlier there had been one of those days when she was on the verge of collapse. Throughout the morning there had been an embarrassing amount of coming and going from the dropship, because a part of the wall had been damaged as a result of the rains, and he had ordered a handful of kids to repair it. Of course there had been the usual round of occasional injuries and paranoiacs who hadn’t waited a minute before rushing to Clarke. In addition, Spacewalker was on one of his Clarke-let-me-love-you days, and therefore Raven was into the I-don’t-care-but-I-care mood. Couldn’t blame Clarke for being tense like a violin string, with Finn following her like a beaten puppy and Raven incinerating them with her eyes every time she saw them breathe the same cubic meter of air.

The problem was that he needed her to coordinate the guys, and the star-crossed lovers were choking every chance he had of being able to accomplish something before sunset.

So he had approached Clarke, which had immediately put Finn on the alert, and had asked for five minutes alone, hoping to find a quick way to get her away from her vultures and at the same time allow him to make the day meaningful.

"What do you want?" She asked angrily as soon as they were a few meters away from the periphery of the camp. Finn was still keeping a close eye on them, Raven was pretending to wash some metal cups at the central bowl of water, casting furtive glances at Finn whenever she could, and at the door of the dropship there were already 4 other kids who expected "urgent" medications.

Bellamy sighed, pitying her. “I’ll make it simple: I need you, to organize the reparations and the supplies. Get rid of the flies you got around.” A nod over her shoulder made it clear to Clarke that he was referring to Finn.

"I’m open to suggestions." she said, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

"Telling him you have a camp to lead is not enough?"

"If that worked we wouldn’t be here talking about it." Clarke looked away and Bellamy lifted his gaze to the sky. Why the fuck couldn’t that idiot leave her alone? They had far more important things to think about that making sure they had a cuddle partner.

"Clarke, this is getting ridiculous. We have work to do and he needs to be out of the way, I don’t want to have to take him into account when I come to you for camp’s matters."

Clarke grumbled launching a look over her back, finding that Finn hadn’t moved an inch and was still there observing them as if they were to break out in a brawl at any moment.

"Why does he have to stand guard, it’s not like we’re fighting."

"It’s not the fight that he fears, I guess."

That caught his attention. “What?” Clarke looked at him, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows as if to ask him if he really didn’t know what she was talking about, and suddenly he understood. Bellamy couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “You’re kidding, right?”

Clarke snorted in laughter, losing some of her tension, even though it seemed like she didn’t want to. “Yeah well, he’s always been particularly jealous of you, even when you thought about killing me every 5 minutes.”

"Who says I’m not doing that anymore?" Bellamy could imagine Clarke’s expression even though he had turned his gaze to lighten his joke. She laughed, mumbling a "Fair enough.", and he smiled. Checking Finn, again, Bellamy noted that he was tapping his foot anxiously on the ground. He looked like someone who wouldn’t hold out for much longer.

Bellamy frowned. “You said he’s jealous of me?”

"Just like the most beautiful of the class is of the thug who has all the girls." Clarke answered promptly, and Bellamy snorted.

"Then there could be one thing that would keep him, and potentially some of your ordinary patients, away when we are trying to organize action plans in my tent."

"That is?" Clarke asked with interest, stepping closer. Bellamy did the same and she raised her head to meet his gaze. She had the what-are-you-doing written on her forehead, basically.

"It doesn’t work if you slap me afterwards." He replied simply, taking another step forward. Clarke had to raise her head even more to keep her eyes fixed on him, but didn’t back away. Bellamy took advantage of her moment of confusion to take her face in his hands and bend down to kiss her.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of that before. They were surrounded by kids who, instead of thinking about how to survive, were only worried about not dying as virgins. They didn’t respond to responsibility and duty calls, but when it came to sex they were all extremely receptive. It was only natural to think that they would leave them much more in peace if they thought they were together. And, in addition, there was the opportunity to piss Spacewalker off, which was always fun.

Despite the whole action being only a matter of pressing closed lips on others, Clarke inhaled suddenly and went totally stiff. He hoped she wouldn’t react badly, or the charade would go to hell.

Opening his eyes he looked towards Finn, and Bellamy could have sworn he saw him fuming in rage. He counted up to 3 before seeing him marching toward them, shouting “Hey, keep your hands off!” Clarke groaned beneath him and when he turned his gaze back on her, he saw she was staring at him in return. Clarke rolled her eyes in frustration as Finn’s voice came closer, and Bellamy tapped his thumb twice against her cheek. Somehow she was able to understand what he was asking, so she threw her arms around his neck, tilted her head and closed her eyes.

This made Finn’s voice die, and Bellamy was about to sigh mentally in relief when Clarke decided to fuck up everything he was trying to do, opening her lips and starting to kiss him seriously. An inarticulate groan left his throat and he instinctively began to move with her, his eyes closing out of their own will. Clarke exhaled through her nose against his cheek as he stroked her jaw with his thumbs, then moved his hand to the back of her head to keep her from getting away.

His idea hadn’t included an actual kiss, but he certainly wouldn’t be so stupid as to stop it. Even more because Clarke felt unexpectedly good against him.

When a voice on his right whistled and screamed “Go and get a room!”, followed by several laughs and a few “It was about time!”s, Clarke broke the contact, looking around in embarrassment. She leaned the back of her hand against her lips to dry them, and waited a few seconds before looking back at him.

"Is he still there?"

Bellamy diverted his gaze from her suddenly bright blue colored eyes, and looked for Finn. What made him burst out laughing wasn’t Spacewalker’s face contorted in a mixture of pain and disgust, though, but the shocked and ecstatic expressions of Raven and Octavia, who had somehow found each other and watched the scene together. Raven had a hand covering her mouth and her eyebrows shot so high that they were joining her hair, and Octavia was jumping on the spot, clapping.

"I believe they will leave us alone as much as possible now." Bellamy said pulling his lips in a sneer. He wouldn’t mind having to redo it, to be honest.

Clarke cleared her throat, “You’ve had a good idea, yes. Now, can we talk about those supplies?”

***

Life in the camp became strange after that. The delinquents seemed to have renewed their loyalty toward him and had found a new source of energy, following his orders with speed and efficiency. For some reason, believing that he and Clarke were a thing had pushed them all to be more enthusiastic about their work. Then Jasper had let slip that what everyone had been waiting for was to call them legitimately Mum and Dad, and that by being together they had given them all a family. It was ridiculous, but he wouldn’t be the one to contradict them since they were working so well.

Pretending to be with Clarke required that they showed closeness and intimacy in public, and where before he would have simply stood next to her, now he could/had to put a hand on her waist, touching her at every little opportunity, stepping into her personal space for the stupidest thing, and last but not least, occasionally kiss her.

It was working, the guys really weren’t bothering Clarke that much anymore—something that made him think it wasn’t paranoia that led them so often to her—and Finn had decided to stand aside for the moment, not wanting to question what was, undoubtedly, the favored couple. Octavia was obviously thrilled about it, and was the first to encourage everyone to work harder so that the lovebirds could retire early in ‘their’ tent. It was hilarious, really. What he had not expected, however, was for the both of them to actually find pleasure in the forced contact.

Bellamy didn’t know if it had to do with the fact that both now had a way to vent repressed feelings and physical frustrations, but since they had started touching each other, the tension in their muscles had dropped visibly. Clarke hadn’t been close to the exhaustion point anymore, and he had started sleeping without waking up every two hours from nightmares. Now, when Clarke had a hard day in the makeshift clinic, she would look for him in the camp and rest her forehead against his shoulder, a gesture he had learned that meant “I want a hug.” A couple of times Clarke had been perceptive enough to notice his mood after one of his usual sleepless nights with demons chasing after him, and had given him a double ration for breakfast, plus a kiss on the cheek. It had been so unexpected that he had lost his grip on the pictures of the previous night and had forgotten what he had dreamed about.

When they were in front of others there was no doubt in their eyes that they were together. Even Bellamy was starting to believe it. Things would change drastically when they were alone though, because there reality would creep in between them. At the beginning the difference between Outside and Inside was so sharp that it made him dizzy. Him caressing her back was literally liable to a smile or a slap depending on the number of bystanders.

If it were for him, he would have gladly continued their new relationship even in private, because if some hugs in front of the kids had relaxed him enough to give him two nights a week of decent sleep, he couldn’t even imagine how it would be if he could enjoy it all the time. There was something in Clarke’s kind of comfort which fit him perfectly, and he had never been the type to give up something he knew would benefit him, so he decided to talk to her.

That night, as they sat in front of the central campfire, Clarke resting her head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist, Bellamy had come close to her ear and whispered, “I’m tired of living in two realities.” She had immediately stiffened, but didn’t back away. Bellamy had continued then, “I want to kiss you without having to check if there’s at least one witness.”

Clarke had her eyes fixed on the fire, but he knew that she was making sure others weren’t listening to the conversation. They couldn’t hear their whispers over the crackling wood, but certainly some had set their eyes on them, so Clarke was stuck in that position, because she couldn’t move away without giving the idea that they were fighting. She would probably make him pay later for putting her in a corner, but in that moment Bellamy had more important things to do. “I want to touch you without worrying about when I have to stop.”

"You’re an asshole."

Bellamy felt Clarke literally vibrate under him and had to refrain from laughing. She was used to always having her way in the camp and forgot too often that even the Knight could capture the Queen if he was astute enough to put her in the right spot.

"I didn’t want to risk you running away. So tell me, princess, do we stop becoming two strangers when we’re alone?"

"What are you asking me exactly, Bellamy? Because for some reason I don’t think it’s only about kisses and hugs." Her voice was barely a whisper toward the flames and Bellamy had to read the movements of her lips.

"You know very well what I’m asking. And before you start with your moral inspired monologue, remember what happened the last time you mistook sex for love."

"Fuck you."

"My intention, with your permission."

He heard Clarke huff in frustration. “Why me? You don’t lack sweethearts.”

"Well, if you haven’t noticed, since we’ve started pretending to be a couple I’ve been a model non-boyfriend." —As opposed to someone else.—

At this Clarke lowered her eyes, as if she had been overwhelmed by a sudden wave of guilt for all the random fucks she had deprived him of. Bellamy was almost about to reassure her that he didn’t give a fuck and his fist was as worthy as all of them put together, but he could hear Clarke’s gears turning, and if that was what it took to push her, then so be it.

"So what, we would be…friends with benefits?"

"We would be two extremely satisfied people." He replied, nudging her with his shoulder. Clarke remained silent for a few moments, then sighed and nodded her head slightly. Bellamy would have never admitted it, but the wave of relief and happiness nearly undid him.

***

Their first time had been that night—Bellamy didn’t want to risk that she changed her mind—, and as soon as they entered his tent, Clarke had immediately made it clear that the rule was not spending the whole night together. Bellamy had laughed at her, SHE was telling him not to become too attached. Seriously, sometimes the blondie was the funniest of the camp.

They had stripped individually and Bellamy had enjoyed Clarke’s every embarrassed movement. He wasn’t making it easy for her at all. From that distance he could also admire her body completely, and there was no denying that the show was remarkable. When he noticed that her hands were shaking slightly, he decided that he had teased her enough and approached her with caution, as not to scare a puppy, stroking her arms from elbows to shoulders, and then cupping her nape. He leaned his forehead against hers and simply waited.

Clarke didn’t look up at him, keeping her eyes fixed on an undefined point of his naked chest, then finally breathed deeply and raised her face. Bellamy took advantage of the moment to kiss her, pulling her completely against him. Feeling the pressure of her full breasts against his ribs coaxed a whimper out of both of them, and Bellamy opened his mouth along with her, letting their tongues brush each other.

They stood kissing until Bellamy felt Clarke completely relaxed, then he pushed her onto the bed, lying down on top of her and deciding that for once he could afford devoting himself to foreplay for much longer than he usually did. Clarke accused him, later, of having treated her like a virgin, but it was true that she lacked the necessary experience to not be scared to death. Just her being under him, ready to be taken, was such a courageous move that he wanted to sincerely compliment her.

It was, without a doubt, one of the slowest and sweetest fucks he had ever had in his whole life, always used to rushing and getting straight to the point because there were more important things to do. Instead, that first time had been all about Clarke, and thinking about it still made him smile.

The second time had been in the dropship, on one of the makeshift beds, while everyone was busy organizing and cleaning the supplies. The convenience of being publicly a couple was that when Bellamy or Clarke were in the same room, suddenly there was no one around them. And everyone was so focused on giving them opportunities to be together that the two of them literally had nothing to do other than fuck. Bellamy certainly didn’t complain, and Clarke didn’t seem to mind as well.

The third time was in her tent a few nights later. The fourth again in his bed, the fifth against a tree outside the camp, the sixth behind Clarke’s tent because they couldn’t wait two more minutes. From then on Bellamy lost count.

They worked well in bed. Incredibly well. Her body was perfect against his, and so fucking soft that he would have spent gladly entire days simply brushing his hands on her skin.

Their public displays of affection gained a new level of intimacy and depth, their hugs turning warmer, kisses slower and more heartfelt. As the days passed, touching became less a hobby and more something he needed, to the extent that Bellamy couldn’t meet Clarke’s eyes without wanting to push her against a wall. He wasn’t sure of the fact that Clarke was feeling the same thing, but each time they were together she was eager and needy just like he was.

After nearly three weeks, sometimes it happened that they would sleep together. Maybe it was too cold outside or it was raining, or one of them was simply too lazy to move, and without needing to say anything they would fall asleep each on their own side of the small bed.

Needless to say, the morning after they’d always find themselves tangled in impossible positions, with Clarke’s hair that constantly made its nest in Bellamy’s mouth. It was neither pleasant nor sexy nor funny, but every time he complained his voice would come out muffled through the tangle, Clarke would laugh and Bellamy would force himself not to hug her impulsively.

It wasn’t the first time that this kind of urge took him by surprise, and he was starting to wonder seriously what his problem was. He had Clarke naked over him whenever he wanted, why the fuck couldn’t it be enough? Why did he have to feel a hunger deep in his stomach that didn’t seem to go away regardless of how many times he had her?

He had begun to insist that they slept together every night, with the excuse of being able to take advantage of her whenever he wanted, and Clarke unexpectedly didn’t object. She simply stood up, went to her tent to gather her things—which were a backpack with clothes, two blankets, a pillow and a jar with pencils and other memorabilia she had found around—and returned to drop them on the ground. Then she fell back on the bed to go back to sleep. It didn’t take more than 15 minutes. Bellamy had stayed up all night staring at the top of the tent moving with the wind, wondering what he was still unhappy about now. At the dawn of the next day, he still didn’t know.

***

The following week Finn showed up for breakfast hand in hand with Crys, one of the girls Bellamy had fucked right after their arrival on Earth, and the camp exploded in gossip again. The difference with their coming out was that Finn wasn’t doing a very nice job at pretending that he liked Crys. So everyone’s guess wasn’t so much whether Finn had found his new flame, but if Finn was still so into Clarke that he had to take a fake girlfriend in an attempt to make her jealous. When Octavia had told Clarke that Finn was faking a relationship, she had wrinkled her nose, muttering “That’s so childish.”, and Bellamy had felt like all the air had been sucked out of him.

Where was the difference between what Finn was doing and what the two of them did? Didn’t their relationship have, as a basis, the convenience of keeping others away? Had seeing from the outside a mirror of what they were doing maybe awakened Clarke to the fact that she couldn’t do it anymore?

Bellamy spent the entire day eaten by doubts, and every time he crossed Finn, he wanted to punch him so much that his hands itched. If the idiot had minded his own fucking business, now he wouldn’t be risking losing the most beautiful…

The realization of what had been the problem tormenting Bellamy during the last weeks was accompanied by a loud “Fuck!”

***

After his enlightenment on his romantic feelings for Clarke, and worrying about losing her more with each passing minute, that same day he had taken a great breath and confessed to her that he wanted their relationship to be more than just fucking.

She had closed her mouth in a grimace which was generally addressed to idiots, and had stared at him through her half-lowered eyelids, snorting a “Are you kidding me?”

Bellamy hadn’t taken it that well, thus launching into a tirade, arguing why they were perfect together and that it would have been extremely uncute of her not to accept his polite request.

Clarke had waited for him to end his incredibly motivated confession, before accusing him of being the biggest idiot ever seen on Earth, and that no, after his brilliant stunt they were not a couple and he would have to convince her. Then she had gone away laughing and waving her hand without even looking back.

Of course Finn had heard it all, and of course Crys had promptly been dumped. Of course Clarke and Spacewalker were now being seen going around the camp together as if there had never been a problem between them. And Bellamy again wanted nothing more than thrust a hole through Spacewalker’s face with his fist.

That evening Bellamy burned scented leaves in the tent and lit some damp twigs which burnt slowly enough to look like candles, and as soon as Clarke had entered their little room, he had taken her hands between his and asked her again to be with him. She had laughed and said no. Then they had sex.

The next day he asked Octavia to make a wreath, while Monty had procured some flavored alcohol and Raven went deer hunting. Dinner that night was extremely luxurious, and the two of them dined away from the group. Then Bellamy asked her to be with him, and Clarke after giving him a kiss on the nose said no, again.

The next day he woke up in an empty bed. Leaving the tent to organize the work to be done by sunset, he had seen Finn coming out of the dropship, followed shortly after by Clarke. Nice way to start the day. He still snuck into the empty clinic and rearranged all Clarke’s tools to form the phrase “Wanna date?” on the table. When she had come back to the dropship, the camp was temporarily shaken by a yelled “OHMYGOD!!! I said No!”, before a furious Clarke had stormed out looking for him and had jumped on his back, yelling in his ear that he had to help her to put everything back in place.

That night she fell asleep in his arms as if nothing had happened. Bellamy was starting to get impatient.

He tried a song in front of the fire, shocking her because she didn’t know he could sing, a bouquet of particularly beautiful flowers which grew in an area far too close to Grounders’ territory, subliminal messages by repeating “Date me” like a mantra while she slept—she had threatened to cut his hair if he didn’t stop immediately—and finally kneeling down in their tent and mocking a marriage proposal by changing “marry” with “date”. None of that worked, and Bellamy reached such a level of frustration—because it seemed like the more he was miserable, the more cheerful she got—that in the end he gave her a little iron pendant.

"Bellamy, this is Raven’s necklace." Clarke had said, perplexed.

"I know, she said she didn’t want it any more and I took it. Here." He put it on her hand, and Clarke looked at him as if he had just sprouted two heads.

"Finn made this, you know?"

"I know."

"Then why are you giving it to me?" the tone here was already becoming mocking.

Bellamy looked away, pouting and shrugging. “It worked twice with him.”

Looking at Clarke out of the corner of his eye, he saw her gaping and then bursting out laughing, her head thrown back and her hands holding her belly. “Oh God…I didn’t know… you could be…such a dork…”

By the time she finished laughing she had tears in her eyes, and Bellamy simply stared, not knowing if he should feel annoyed or happy that she was apparently having such a good time at his expense.

Clarke, in the end, took pity on him and pulled herself together. “Bell, I love you, but sometimes you’re such an idiot.”

"Don’t call me an idiot, woman. And wait, what?"

Thanks to the question he earned a blow on his shoulder. “We’ve been together for a whole month and you realize that we’re an us only now?! You’re so stupid!”

"Stop insulting me, dammit! How should have I known when all we do is-"

Luckily his next question was cut off by her kiss, because it would have probably made her lose it completely and she’d have ended up slapping the shit out of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Edited by [Zoadgo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoadgo/pseuds/Zoadgo), who's the Witch to my Gretel. 
> 
> Thanks to anyone who will read it, comment it, _kudos it_ , ignore it etc.  
> Feel totally free to contact me here or on [my tumblr](http://coldsaturn.tumblr.com)!


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